Dying Serenity
by Yva J
Summary: Through his sorrow, Willy is reminded of a much happier time in his life. Wilder Wonka, environmentally themed.


_This story is, sadly, partially based on fact, but it's also centered on my sadness to the catastrophe that surrounds a place here in Germany called the Laacher See (or Laach Lake). Only two days ago, I saw a report on German television about the possible cause of this and it hit me rather hard. In this report they interviewed a man who had grown up in that area, and the sadness that he must have felt hit me rather hard because the once healthy and clean lake is now dying. So, this story was written with him in mind!_

_I will not go into what the report said specifically, but I can imagine that this sort of environmental calamity is happening the world over and not just here. With Earth Day coming up in some days, I have decided to write and share this. If you do not like environmental themes, then perhaps this is not the story for you._

_Like 'The Legacy' I wrote this more for myself than for anyone else and this is Wilder Wonka.  


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**Dying Serenity**

He stood staring out across the stillness of the lake. On the surface, everything appeared to be alright, the sounds of birds chirping in the distance could be detected as the wind rustled through the trees. The only difference was a yellow and red colored sign that was along the perimeters of the lake. It was visible every three hundred or so meters and bearing the words: 'Contaminated. No swimming. No fishing.'.

The sign had not always been there, in fact, it was fairly recent when it had been put into place. This was indicative because the colors that adorned the metal shield had not yet started to fade from the prolonged solar exposure.

All that seemed to provide any sort of comfort were the memories that passed though his mind as he stared out across the water.

Willy Wonka unconsciously jabbed the end of his cane into the earth for what seemed like the umpteenth time. His thoughts were concealed by the unreadable expression that lined his face. The only indicator as to his emotional state were the creases of concentration that lined his forehead.

Without so much as uttering a sound, he remained stationary as he looked out across the water, his eyes somehow matching the colors that stretched out before him. Somehow, this overwhelmingly calm lake carried the very same sort of façade as he, himself, harbored.

His stance did not change, instead, the famous confectioner merely stared motionless across the water. Periodically, he would close his eyes and feel the breeze as it wafted against his face and through his curly blond hair. When this would happen, he would abruptly open his eyes and be reminded that he was in the present and not the past.

Closing his eyes again, he realized that his memories were the only things that were keeping him from losing himself in the heartache of the moment.

Losing himself in concentration, he began to center his thoughts on the days when he had been a child and had gone swimming in that lake on hot summer days. Sometimes he would defy the strict orders of his father and stick his feet into the mud along the water's edge and allow it to ooze between his toes. It had been such a wonderful memory to him. Of course, now, the joy he had experienced had died right along with the ecology of this area.

He opened his eyes to feel the tears as they tickled the area just beneath his eyes. After several seconds, the moisture drifted slowly from them and streamed down over his cheeks. With a stubborn hand, he wiped the moisture away and tried to distract his attention from the lake to the birds as they flew from limb to limb and tree to tree.

After several moments, a voice suddenly distracted him. "Willy?"

The chocolatier turned away from his painful observations and watched as Charlie Bucket came over to where he was standing.

Looking at his apprentice somehow reminded the brokenhearted chocolatier that he was getting older and not younger. It was abundantly clear that Charlie was not a child anymore, he had grown into a confident man and had proven himself to be more than ready to take over the business. This somehow succeeded in making Willy's feelings careen even further out of control than they already were.

Today, the younger man's hair was considerably darker than it had been when he had been a child and his matching blue eyes immediately sought those of his unhappy mentor.

"What's the matter, Willy?" Charlie asked the moment he saw the despondent look that shadowed the confectionary genius' face. He had never seen Willy looking this sad before, and his concerns somehow mounted with each passing second.

"Nothing," emerged the stoic response.

"Don't lie to me," Charlie said firmly. "I know that something is wrong. Just trust me enough to tell me. Are you not well?"

"I'm fine, Charlie," Willy began. "I was just remembering something from a long time ago."

"You mean from your childhood?" Charlie asked. "Is that why we came here?"

"Yes," emerged the soft answer, but there was no elaboration. Instead the pair drifted into an almost awkward silence. Eventually, the younger of the two broke it.

"When you told me this morning that you wanted to come out here, I thought it was because of something you needed to do," Charlie remarked.

"It was."

"What is it? I mean; usually, when you say you need something, it has to do with the business," Charlie said.

"This time it doesn't," Willy responded. "I suppose I just wanted to show this place to you because it was very important to me when I was growing up. I wanted you to see it before it was too late. I suppose I needed to see it too, to realize how much has changed."

"This is the lake that we saw on the news last night, isn't it?" The younger man asked. When Willy nodded, he continued. "The report said it was pretty bad."

"Yes, it is," Willy said softly, his response simple.

"Do you think it really is as bad as they said?" Charlie asked. "Is that why you wanted to come back?"

Instead of speaking, Willy nodded but allowed his eyes to close.

Charlie took a deep breath. The news had said that the lake was dying and that the cause of the calamity was manmade. Instead of making note of the obvious, he tried for a more optimistic approach. "Is there a chance to save it?"

"I don't know," Willy said, his response laced in hopelessness. "Sometimes, we do too much at once and the chance of recovery is minimal."

Charlie reached over and rested a compassionate hand on the confectioner's shoulder. From beneath his touch, he could feel it trembling. He had never seen Willy so troubled by something like this. Yet, he was and there was not much Charlie could think of to say that might help the chocolatier feel better.

Eventually, he spoke, his next question somehow changing the subject. "Does your family still own the house?"

"No, my grandfather sold it just before he died and divided the money up between my father and his siblings. This was just before I had opened the factory. Part of the reason I didn't react is that I had lost touch with my father for a number of years." He grew silent, but after several seconds, he continued, his voice emerging in a sigh. "If I had known about what was happening, I'd have gone and bought the house myself."

"Forgive me, but I had figured that you had moved on from this," Charlie said.

"No one completely moves on from their roots, my boy. They will always be there, no matter what," Willy said as he pointed off in the distance. "The house where I spent my summers is between that crop of tees over there. I think I was at the beach more often than at the house actually, but now it's closed and the sand got hauled away."

"There was a beach?" Charlie asked. "Here?"

"Well, this used to be one of the cleanest lakes in the country," Willy explained. "There were people coming from all around to hike, swim, picnic, and sunbathe here. It was that way until about ten years ago. Now, it's an ecological disaster area."

"What happened that made it that way?" Charlie asked.

"There are reports and assumptions as to who is accountable, but now, instead of it being a place of joy and happiness, it's condemned," Willy said morosely. "Charlie, I don't know why this happened, but it breaks my heart."

"I think I do," the young man said angrily. "People just stopped caring."

"It really is as simple as that, isn't it?" Willy asked as he took a deep breath.

Charlie nodded. He really hated to see his best friend this unhappy. Instead of contemplating this further, he listened as the chocolatier's next question emerged.

"Let's not ever stop caring, okay, Charlie?"

The young man nodded as he wrapped his arms around his unhappy mentor. "We won't, Willy. I'll make certain of that, I promise."

Standing there, the chocolatier and his protégé stared out across the now polluted lake, each consumed with his own thoughts.

The end.


End file.
